


Built of Unseen Grey (Living in the Between)

by BookwormyThings



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Angst with a Happy Ending, Compliant-ish, Gen, Slow Burn Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, clarke centered, communication is key, more like canon divergence, my own little head canon, this more like conversations I think happened
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-05-02
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23831896
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookwormyThings/pseuds/BookwormyThings
Summary: All she is, all she will be are the things not seenThe colors of grey living in the betweenClarke is a lot of things. She is everything people see and everything they don't. Here are 9 separate conversations that shaped whom Clarke Griffin is and help others see and understand her better.This is pretty much abandoned as season 7 ruined it. I'll delete it at the beginning of February.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Clarke Griffin & Everyone
Comments: 4
Kudos: 27





	1. Before Earthly Wars – Jackson

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! How is everyone doing during this chaotic time? 
> 
> I will update my other story. I had a lot going on and had major writer's block. I hated my original ending and just finally figured out how it will actually end. It is a burden lifted. That should be updated before the show premieres in May. I will try to keep my word this time. 
> 
> Anyway, here is another story. Each chapter will be a conversation Clarke has with different characters throughout the show, a chapter per season and a prologue and epilogue, so 9 chapters total. The first chapter is before the show starts with Jackson! It was really difficult picking characters to have these conversations, so if I didn't choose your favorite or someone you think needs to have a conversation with Clarke, I'm sorry. Any character could have fit for a lot of these conversations, but I wanted to highlight some relationships I think the show has underused or underappreciated. 
> 
> Now, read and enjoy!

Peace disguises itself in frozen quiet

Like a rhythm of steady waves of a calm ravine

Unforgiving with time but so soothing a view

The water erodes but life is in full green 

Perfect and unchanging and raw and new

All the while under all the blue awaits a riot

All she is, all she will be are the things not seen

The colors of grey living in the between

***

She has always been quiet. Not silent, but quiet. A quiet storm. A quiet fire. A quiet force of nature ready to barrel through mountains. She is so quiet, it is often confused for something else, something unfeeling and cold. Clarke Griffin never commands attention in conventional ways. She looms over the room in low, leveled movements announcing her presence without much noise but with just as much importance. A seriousness distinct to her, and only her.

She has always been mature beyond her years presenting in quietness.

Clarke is quiet in every way even in grief.

Jackson remembers the way she held Wells after his mother died. Too calm for someone so young, so affected by the death at hand, he begins to admire her in that instance. Despite the years, he has on her, he knows she would demand respect from even the most unwilling party.

Now, she holds herself in the very same serenity of that day. Her face cold with indifference, Abby shoos her away as she drapes a cloth over a body.

That is the third death in just two days. So many quick deaths in a row always mean people will riot on the lower levels, so he scurries over to his mentor ready to assist her in any way she asks of him. Words leave her lips, but he hears nothing as he lifts the dead weight and stares after Clarke.

He knows this is not the first death she has encountered and if she continues to follow her mother, it would not be the last. He also knows this one hits just a little bit different. Seeing the life slip from someone’s eyes as you hold their hand connects you to their last seconds, their last breaths feel like your own. Death, now personalized, follows you home in a way most people will never experience.

Jackson still remembers the lingering stare as he crouched near Mrs. Abernathy as she departed from this world to join her husband who had passed before he joined medical. It stays with you. It stays with him. Mrs. Abernathy. Mr. Marsh. Mr. Hensley. Mr. Bright. Mrs. Bright. Lennie. Marla. Mrs. Sanders. The list of names expands through stations, ages, occupations. It is a never-ending, forever-growing endeavor to constantly remind himself of every name, of every hand, of every pair of eyes he could not save since he started interning with Abby.

It never gets easier. The more eyes he shuts, the more determined he becomes. As if death is his great motivator.

His need to talk to her, just to check in, increases the more he notices how little Abby appears to care for the death her daughter witnessed. She continues her day as if nothing occurred just hours before she finished her shift.

Tired from another long day of meetings and appointments, Abby slumps her shoulders and softly closes her eyes, saying, “Jackson, I’m headed home. I have a council meeting in the morning, and I want to be able to function. Do you think you can handle medical until the actual end of the shift?”

Jackson, looking at his watch, replies, “Oh, yes! We don’t have anyone scheduled to come in for the rest of the day, and most people with be headed home after getting their rations.”

She nods and begins to head for the doors. As she is to exit, she pivots sharply and sends him a warm smile, “Thank you, Jackson. I know it is a difficult time for you with your exams coming up and all the extra hours you have been volunteering here at medical. I know you probably need a break just as much as I do.”

Shrugging off her comment, he waves her out the door, “It really is no problem as long as I can borrow Clarke for another study session tomorrow. She really is helpful, and I can use all the help to pass these exams. I don’t know what I’ll do if I don’t.”

A gentle, tired chuckle, Abby smirks, “You don’t need the help, but I am sure Clarke would be happy to lend a hand. She actually likes it. She says it makes her better prepared once she starts interning here in a year or two.”

“I’m sure Jake is disappointed Clarke picked medicine over engineering.”

A real laugh this time escapes Abby’s lips, “Yes! He keeps reminding me of how much wasted potential it is. How someone who is such a big thinker and clever and imaginative is going to be stuck doing something so repetitive instead of working on the Ark’s more challenging problems.”

Jackson gives Abby a little grin, “Clarke would hate it…working with machines. She’s too caring for all of that. She needs to be with the people who are suffering and make it better in any way she can. I mean she is all of those things Jake mentioned, but she…she calms people when she’s near them. People like that are needed down here.”

“Yeah, they are.” Pause and a swallow of sentiment later, Abby leaves with quick, purposeful steps leading her home.

Jackson finishes the shift, greets Dr. Duran, and ambles his way to his empty apartment. Trying not to think about the eyes that haunt him the most.

He does not succeed as he dreams of her, unable to escape those moments until he wakes up again in a cold sweat and the last imprint of his mother and the way her hand slipped out of his.

He scrambles out of bed in an attempt to flee from his memories. He feels safer once he steps out of his apartment and marches toward the Griffins' apartment. Shaking his head to adjust his thoughts, he almost misses their door. He catches himself just in time. Double checks his watch to ensure he is not too early to be knocking, he taps the door with ease, in no hurry for an answer. He can always come back at a more convenient time for them.

His worries are clearly unfounded as Clarke’s bright smile welcomes him and he hears Jake’s rather warming laugh in the distance.

Pulling him in, Clarke says with nothing but adoration, “You are just in time for dad’s lecture on why engineering is much more intellectually rewarding than medical could ever be and how I am wasting my rather unrivalled brain on something so boring.”

Jackson barks, “Well, one can argue engineering is the boring one, but I am sure we will never come to an agreement about which one is more boring. But I am sure we can all say both are vital to keeping us alive.”

“Well, I can’t argue that one, Jackson…you got me there.”

Clarke pokes her dad giggling, “I’m glad we have come to an olive branch of sorts. We are going to take over the shared space. Jackson needs to study. His exams are next week, and then the real hard work begins. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, you two behave. Take breaks. Eat!” Kissing Clarke on the top of her head and squeezing her into him, “I have to head out anyway. There is some sort of malfunction or something and they need me to take a look at it.”

Waving at them, he leaves them alone and in silence.

Unable to help himself, he searches for any sense of distress from yesterday lingering in her in any way. A hesitant smile. An empty laugh. A bitter comment. Any reason for him to be anxious about her well-being.

Instead, he sees blonde hair braided neatly and the same small, genuine smile on her face. Her excitement at spending her afternoon with him and medical terminology apparent as anything else on her expression.

Two hours fly and she remains as engaged with the material as he is. She even shares her own little tricks she invented when she grew tired of her mother always knowing more than her.

Jackson rolled back laughing, “She is the best doctor we have. You aren’t even an intern yet.”

“Hey! I spend a lot of time shadowing her and just hanging in medical. I should know more stuff by now, but sometimes it’s hard to make it stick.”

“You are one of the smartest people I know, Clarke. Once, you do this all the time, I am sure you will be running circles around me in no time.”

Shaking her head, she pokes him, “Don’t do that. My mom is super impressed with you, Jackson. And, I know you don’t need me to say this because you know her well enough, but that isn’t easy. She picked you because you make her better.” She turns to assess the books and notes scattered all over the floor, “All this studying…you are going to ace these exams and put everyone to shame.”

Reaching for a sheet with a detailed diagram of the nervous system, he says, “Until you get there and make all of us look like idiots.”

“Only because I practically grew up in medicine.”

“Yeah, it’s weird not to see you around in medical at least once a shift.” 

“I don’t know…I like it.”

Peeking at her, Jackson assures her, “And you’re good at it too. The patients always love it when you are around. They always say how peaceful you make them feel. Like your face makes them feel safe. It’s a great quality to have when you do this. You can’t always save everyone, but you _can_ make everyone feel good.”

Not looking at him, she sighs, “Thanks, that means a lot.”

The pause is heavy in a natural kind of way, the kind of heavy which can bring you some sort of comfort. It is because of the warm weightiness of the conversation that gives Jackson enough courage to test the quietness of Clarke. Despite the pretty nature of her smile and the authenticity of her willingness to help, he knows beneath it all brews much more than what she shares.

Exhaling and scooting his way closer to her, he remarks, “You know, you…um…can talk to me about it. Like what happened yesterday, we can talk, and I promise not to mention it to anyone unless you want me to.”

“There is nothing to talk about. She was sick and she died. It happens. And…and there was nothing I could do about it.”

“Yeah, there wasn’t. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt or that you shouldn’t talk about it with anyone. People do die, Clarke, but the moment we stop crying over it is going to be the moment I worry we have lost more than just a life.”

Quiet as ever, Clarke keeps her tears from falling, “Wow, Eric Jackson is a poet and a doctor. All the boys must fall at your feet.”

“God, I wish!”

After a giggle and a few shared smiles, the air around them falls on their shoulders and pushes. Tension fills the room and Jackson attempts to cut it with the only thing he knows can throw Clarke off.

“I’ve known you long enough to understand what you are trying to do. You can’t distract me or take the conversation in a different direction with a compliment. I get it. You are used to being the smartest person in the room.” Glancing her way, he pauses and throws in a joke, “And technically, you still are, but it won’t be enough today.”

Moving her face out of his line of vision, she inhales deeply and says, “There is nothing to talk about. I couldn’t save her. She was too sick.”

Shaky breath, Jackson reaches out to place a hand on her shoulder, “When I had my first real patient die on me, it hurt more than I expected it to. It wasn’t the first I saw someone die or the first time I was treating someone and they died. It was the first time I held their hand and watched them die. It changes you. I have never felt more useless than I did right then and there. What good was I when this person died and I just watched it happen?”

Slowly, she twists herself to peer up at him. Tears, not free but noticeable, sparkle in the corners of her eyes. She holds onto them as her last sense of protection from the pain she so clearly hides in herself.

He carries on, “It’s why I know you will be great at this. Better than any of us! Clarke, you are great in a crisis. You stay calm no matter what and you’re smart and observant. All of that will make you a good doctor. But, you care, Clarke. I know you do. You care about every single patient whether they are yours or not. You care about them, so much you won’t run from their pain. You take it head-on. And that…that will make you a _great_ doctor.”

“How great can I be if all do is just care and can’t save them?”

“Better than you know.”

“Jackson…”

More serious with her than he has ever been, he pulls her around to ensure her eyes look directly into his. He needs her to see him as he says, “Saving a body is not the same thing as saving a life. Yeah, sometimes you do both. God, we always want to do both. But, staying with them, carrying that, it always means so much. It’s why the patients love you. Why you bring them peace?” A breath and a blink, he continues, “Making someone feel seen, heard, cared for…is something not all of us can do. But you can. You make them feel human in a place where sometimes, we can’t always give them that. That is a wonderful gift and a really big burden, so please talk to me. Or to your mom or dad. Talk to Wells!”

Eyes closed and cheeks moist, Clarke croaks, “I wanted to her to think I wasn’t scared, but I was, and I don’t know…” Sniffle, “Jackson, does it always feel this way? Do you always leave medical feeling like you failed and you should have done more? Like if someone else were taking care of that person, they would have lived.”

“I feel like that all the time, and it never really goes away but it does get smaller. The longer you do this, the more you realize, death is just part of the deal.”

“Part of the deal?”

“Yeah, like I said, Clarke. You can’t save everyone, so you save those you know have a chance.”

She opens her eyes again and looks at Jackson almost reverently as if his wisdom built a new cathedral for her to worship, “People die. It’s part of the deal.”

Settling into one another again, Clarke wipes her face with her sleeve and pokes his side, “Enough with the sentiment. You can’t avoid these amazing practices quizzes by making me cry. So, let’s get to it, Future Dr. Jackson.”

He smirks and puffs, “I don’t need to avoid anything. Dr. Griffin is already impressed with me and thinks I have a spot guaranteed”

“Who told you that lie?”

Laughing now, Jackson says, “I have insider sources who are very reliable. They tell me I am by far her favorite and the exams are just a formality.”

“Well then, we don’t want to disappoint them now do we?”

“No, we don’t.”

They spread themselves over all the books and let the seriousness of the conversation pass over them. Clarke remains subdued the rest of the afternoon, but Jackson, so focused on the material, never notices the difference.

He closes the door of his apartment when he finally puzzles out that Clarke never truly spoke about her feelings and only glossed over it with shy phrases and pretty tears. He tells himself he will confront her about it once his exams are over. He will pass and celebrate with the Griffins and talk to her then.

He passes his exams with top marks but never gets the chance to celebrate and talk to her. Jake gets floated. Abby becomes withdrawn. And Clarke, well, Clarke gets arrested. Her quiet thrives with only four walls and charcoal to keep her company and no one to see the fire starting to burn.


	2. Between Sky and Mud – Monty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Monty braves it for many reasons. Number one: He really needs to see Jasper. He may be safe from the clutches of Murphy, but he has not been up to see him since the night Clarke saved his life. Number two: Bellamy has been extraordinarily more anxious since the attack outside of the wall. With Atom’s death straining his relationship with Octavia, he yells to make himself feel better, and Monty wants to hide just for a moment. Number three: Clarke, more than anyone, truly needs a break. No one dares to bother her especially not after Sterling ran in with news of Wells’s death. That and Atom and Jasper, someone needs to man-up and get her to sleep or at least get her to stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, y'all! Here is another update! 
> 
> Let's celebrate that Eliza Morley lives and is well and just radiate. Did anyone get to go to the virtual dance party? I totally tried but couldn't get my laptop to cooperate. 
> 
> Enjoy Monty and Clarke talking during season 1! This happens between episodes 3 and 4. Thank you for reading!

Gold stained her hair and heart

As much as red tainted her hand

Stitching together truth and righteousness

With things children seem to understand

Creating a new world order of forgiveness

And a trust for others so good can start

All she is, all she will be are the things not seen

The colors of grey living in the between

***

Monty braves it for many reasons. Number one: He really needs to see Jasper. He may be safe from the clutches of Murphy, but he has not been up to see him since the night Clarke saved his life. Number two: Bellamy has been extraordinarily more anxious since the attack outside of the wall. With Atom’s death straining his relationship with Octavia, he yells to make himself feel better, and Monty wants to hide just for a moment. Number three: Clarke, more than anyone, truly needs a break. No one dares to bother her especially not after Sterling ran in with news of Wells’s death. That and Atom and Jasper, someone needs to man-up and get her to sleep or at least get her to stop.

Monty thinks his chances of surviving such an encounter are better than anyone else’s. Clarke likes him. They are quickly becoming friends, the closest to him after Jasper. He owes her so much, and he would do this for her.

Sighing, he musters some courage to head toward the dropship.

“Monty! Where do you think you are going?”

Shutting his eyes, he fails to keep a little composure. He never liked Murphy. “I am headed to the dropship. I need to check in on Jasper and then I am going to work on communication to contact the Ark.”

“And who gave you permission to do all of that?” Murphy crosses his arm to emphasize his own importance as if he knows exactly who gave Monty permission and how that authority means nothing to him.

Seeing as his courage is right on the surface, Monty turns with eyes bright and says, “Clarke asked me to do that. Now, do you want to be the one to tell _Clarke_ you don’t want me to that? I mean even Bellamy is keeping his distance right now.”

Satisfied with Murphy’s hesitation, Monty marches toward the dropship rehearsing the speech he ran by Monroe last night. ‘ _Clarke, you really need sleep. I can look after Jasper. I promise if anything goes wrong the first thing I will do is come and get you…Clarke, you really need to sleep. I can look after Jasper…_ ’

His thoughts fall away once he glimpses at Clarke hunched over Jasper cleaning his wound. Her blond hair sticks to her neck and forehead and her blue eyes appear redder than he has ever seen them. The dark circles, he knows, do not help.

She is so clearly exhausted. And she has so clearly not noticed him.

He wanders in with the purpose of not disrupting her work. Whatever speech he planned can wait until he knows Jasper is safe and well again. He simply settles himself by the hatch patiently observing her as she worked.

She handles him with such delicate movements he cannot help but think she loves Jasper almost as much as he does, a ridiculous thought to intrude on the moment. Monty knows with certainty no one loves Jasper more than him and no one will. They share a bond beyond this world, a bond fated by the stars which once surrounded them.

There is no Monty without Jasper.

Clarke does more than simply save Jasper with all of her sharp tongue and graceful fingers. She saves them both. Monty will never be able to repay the debt, but he knows Clarke would never collect. She will not even ask for their friendship though she will have it, she does have it.

Despite all of Bellamy’s insistence of her privilege, Clarke may be the most open heart on the ground once you chip away at the frosty exterior. She cares. She cares more than she knows and definitely more than she wants. Her attempt to keep her sanity is failing miserably. If Monty can see how much she loves them already, he is almost certain the others will too.

Her strict, serious demeanor protects her for now. 

Her fingers twitch, and Monty notices just how tired she actually is. Every part of her shakes from exhaustion. She barely holds herself up as she finishes changing Jasper’s bandages.

Monty takes the cue the universe gives him. He finds himself covering her hands with his hands as tenderly as he can and a voice to match, “Hey, let me help.”

She nods and together they make a quick job of it.

She slips away and she thuds on the floor with her eyes drooping. She whispers a thank you and tries to catch her breath as if the task of admitting weakness drains every ounce of energy she has yet to expend on others. She carefully drags her body toward a wall and slags herself on it.

Her new position gives Monty the chance to observe her in full. She is more than exhausted. Her shirt still carries the stains of blood from days ago. If it is Well’s or Atom’s blood, Monty cannot be sure. He simply knows she has yet to wash it off. With her eyes shut, Monty concentrates on the rest of her face. Sweaty like he saw before, but there are specks of dirt and blood he somehow missed. Her hands are much cleaner, taken cared of in ways the rest of just is not. She needs her hands to heal.

Monty slowly remembers the reason he climbed the stairs in the first place. Accessing the courage he built on his way up, he murmurs, “Clarke, you really need to sleep. I can look after Jasper.”

Snapping her eyes open, she stops his well-intentioned and well-rehearsed speech, “No, I’m fine. Jasper is mostly out of the woods, but I want to make sure nothing else goes wrong. I’m the best we got.”

Monty plops himself down to the floor in an attempt to get closer to Clarke as he sighs, “Yeah, you are the best we got, but the best can only stay that way if she sleeps and rests and takes care of herself too.”

She keeps shaking her head rejecting the idea of self-care, “I said I’m fine, Monty. I don’t need much and I want to make sure I’m close by in case Jasper needs anything.”

“Clarke, you can’t be there for Jasper or anyone else if you can barely stand. I promise you if anything happens I’ll come and get you. But you have to sleep. You can’t keep going like this and then how will we survive...with Bellamy! He’s a jerk who’s going to get us killed. We need you around.”

Clarke rebukes him, “Bellamy is not that bad. He…he would take of care of everyone. I know he would. He just sometimes needs a nudge in the right direction.”

Narrowing his eyes, he rescinds his offensive comment, “Okay, fine. He isn’t a complete jerk, but who better to nudge him than you. I mean…he only listens to you really, so we have no other choice but to keep you around.”

A puff resembling a laugh comes from her lips to tired for it to be real. Still, the sentiment is shared between them.

She says, “He only listens to me because I’m the only who makes him. He could listen to you, Monty, if you wanted him to.” She pauses and scoots closer to him, “You just have to get into his face and make him.”

“It won’t be the same.”

She finds her way back to her wall exhaling, “I’ll take your word for it.”

Silence breathes into the room and settles rapidly yet comfortably.

Monty wants to say more to her, but his prepared speech no longer covers the ground between the two of them. He yearns for her to see how vital she is beyond her own usefulness, yet he understands words bare no meaning to her time of morning. No one knows what to say to a girl who spends all of her time saying everyone’s best friend as the ground forced her to say goodbye to hers.

Stoicism can only lead her so far before she wonders into oblivion lost to anyone and everyone.

Once all the muscles in her body begin to relax, Monty thinks she will finally sleep, maybe all she needs is some company to ease her worries. He shifts his weight to stand proud of his work for the day, but the moment breaks when her eyes shoot open and she springs to her feet.

“Whoa! Clarke! What the hell is wrong?”

Eyes blazing, she huffs, “You were just going to let me sleep. I can’t do that…Jasper needs me to be with him. If something goes, I need to be ready. I…”

Monty flings himself to her and reaches for her shoulders realizing for the first time how physical small she actually is, “Hey…hey, Clarke. Clarke, Jasper’s fine. You saved him already. He won’t die from his injury and not even Murphy will come up here and kill him. He’s in the clear. It’s just a waiting game now.”

Refusing to let her tears fall, she says with her voice cracking near the end, “We don’t know that. We don’t know…”

Finally understanding, Monty closes the distances and hugs her, “I know that Jasper is okay from the things he needed saving from. I know you did that. I know you, Clarke Griffin, saved one Jasper Jordan from the clutches of death. I know you refused to let him go even when the dick that is Bellamy just…” Monty gestures the rest indicating the nefarious intentions Bellamy had for his friend.

Clarke gives a small smirk before it falling, “Bellamy wouldn’t have done it. He wouldn’t have killed Jasper. I know he wouldn’t.”

“Whatever…but, you still saved him and you haven’t slept since then.”

“I can’t.”

Bringing his hands to her shoulders again, Monty continues, “I get it. We don’t know what’s out there and it’s scary. But that doesn’t mean you get to run yourself to the ground. We need you at your best. Please get some sleep.”

“Monty, I can’t…”

The words get stuck in her throat as she chokes on a sob denying it freedom. Monty pulls her in once more time and knows better than to let her go until she releases whatever pain she carries. He actually understands now remembering her smile at Jasper as he opens his eyes and the way she slept soundly only to wake up to Wells’s death. She saves one and let another die. No matter what she does…someone always dies.

Stroking her hair, Monty says, “You know…not every time you go to sleep someone will die. You didn’t cause Wells to die because you relaxed or slept or took care of yourself. The grounders killed him because they wanted for some reason.”

“I just can’t sleep. I close my eyes and I’m falling and then I…I’m awake.”

“You can’t keep that up. You have to sleep. I get it. Why don’t I take a look around nearby to see if I recognize any plants? I may be able to find something to help you sleep. We can’t have our best medic barely holding on.”

“No…no, you don’t have to do that.”

Monty lets her go to ensure he can see her face as he says, “I can. You need the help, Clarke. And I know I’m not Wells. Okay, I am not the person you want right now, but I can be the person who is there if you want me to be.”

“Thanks, Monty, but no. It’s too dangerous right now.”

“Okay, but you have to promise me that you will actually lie down and sleep today. Right now, preferably.”

A small smile with such gentleness crosses her face, and Monty knows she will not close her eyes until her body forces her to the ground. Still, Monty takes it at face value recognizing and admiring her stubbornness. Her grief is her own, and at times, it must be suffered alone.

Rumbling disrupts them, and Bellamy’s head pops through the hatch.

Serious, he says, “How’s Jasper doing?”

Clarke clears her throat and replies, “Better. He should be up and moving in a day if not in a few hours knowing him.”

Monty laughs, “Yeah, he probably hates being stuck here when there is a world out there.”

Bellamy nods in appreciation of his recovery and pushes on, “Good. Um…I want to discuss a possible hunting trip, so be at the big tent in 5 minutes.”

Monty jumps in to dissuade him to say, “Clarke should really…”

Hand in the air to shush him, Clarke steps forward and nods, “Yeah, I’ll be there in 5 minutes. I just have to check on Jasper and set Monty up to look after him. I’ll be good.”

Bellamy climbs his way down and they hear the thud of his landing. Monty turns to her about to protest, but he sees her faces and his mouth instantly closes.

Clarke walks around him, “I have to be there and you know it. Besides, you came here in the first place to hang out with Jasper anyway. This works out for you.”

“I came here to hang out with Jasper and check up on you. It served multiple purposes and I resent the fact you think we wouldn’t care about you to check on you.”

“I never said that."

“You thought it!”

Crouched down, she denies nothing. She simply carries on with her work and straightens herself to leave the dropship for the tent.

“Clarke, I meant what I said.”

She stills but keeps her back to him, “What?”

“Look, Jasper has been in my life since before I could remember. If anything happened to him, I don’t know what I would do. Because those days where we weren’t sure he was going to make it. I wasn’t really functioning. So, I understand this need to just shut down. I am not Wells. I know that. But you can shut down with me if you want.”

“Thanks, Monty. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Or, if not me, someone! Even Bellamy would be better than keeping it all bottled up.”

She stops her climb down and looks at Monty with a genuine smile though small, “Bellamy isn’t that bad. I know he looks like…I know he seems like he doesn’t care, but I think he does. At least he cares more than he lets on.”

“For Octavia, maybe.”

“For all of us. He just doesn’t want to show it because he is being a weird boy about it. I don’t trust him, not yet, but I think I could. And, I think you should give him another chance. Everyone deserves it even Bellamy.”

“Even though he was a jerk…is a jerk.”

“You don’t have to like him, but I do think he means well in a really bad way. Second chance, Monty.”

Leaving him behind with her heavy words, Monty sits in it wondering what happened in the last few days for it change just enough. Monty decides his second chance starts tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Please review or give kudos! 
> 
> Also, follow me on social media! I answer a lot of different asks and am currently live-blogging my rewatch of the show on Tumblr.  
> [Follow me here!](https://bookwormythings.tumblr.com/)


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